So much better

I have no idea what Miles' weight is. And I don't care. He's eating like a champ. He's staying awake for feedings. He lets me know when he's done. It no longer hurts. His poops and pees are right on target and therefore I have stopped thinking about what his current weight, to the ounce I might add, would be. Blah. It doesn't matter. And I could drive myself crazy thinking about it. So I won't.

The problem with the name Miles is that it's tough to come up with a nickname. I've noticed myself calling him angel baby. He is. He is so perfect. It's amazing to sit and feed this perfect person. He is completely without sin. Straight from heaven. Isn't that remarkable? I find myself censoring what I am saying or listening to because after all why should this perfect little person have to listen to such an imperfect world.

We have a wonderful ritual, he and I. He eats and when he's done, he'll pull himself off and nuzzle into my breast. He smiles and looks so content. Sometimes he'll open his eyes and sometimes he'll leave them closed but he always looks so happy. I'm happy too. Happier than I've ever been. I love holding him. I have a wrap to wear him and I love that too. I love it when he lays on my chest and scoots up into my throat. I love that when I pick him up I can comfort him. And when he lays on me, he is soothed. He brings me the most immeasurable joy I've ever felt.

I thought we were doing so well

One of these days I'll get around to posting a birth story. For now, the pertinent details are I had several complications during delivery. They are the cord detaching from my placenta which meant that the doctor who delivered Miles had to reach in (up to her elbow, mind you) and dig the placenta out. Twice. It hurt. A lot. Also, my uterus wouldn't contract which led to her kneading my belly like she was making 12 loaves of bread. Can we say ouch? Then, I had a cervical laceration. This might have been the most serious of the complications but interestingly enough the one where I was the least uncomfortable. It led to a lot of blood loss. 1200 mL of blood loss. Apparently that's quite a bit. I wouldn't know. Then I had a 2nd degree tear. But at this point who cares? It's about as concerning as a zit. In any case, just as true to form as can be, I felt pretty dang great after delivery. The cervical laceration led to a little detour to the OR which was exciting where I was stitched right up. Once we made it to the mother baby unit I was really feeling quite well. I'm sure I was pretty drugged up but I was up and moving around in the late afternoon. They prescribe the use of the peri bottle religiously but when it came down to it I just couldn't. The urge to pee, when it hit, came strong and fast. The choice quickly became pee on the floor while preparing the bottle or just go. Surprisingly enough, there was no pain. I was ecstatic. And then I pooped, also with no pain before leaving the hospital. And then I was smug. I thought my recovery was going to be easy and quick. It's not going that way. Over the last several days, I've added more and more pain meds. And yesterday I had pain and burning and itching. It's getting worse and worse by the day. I called the nurse and kinda got the shaft. She suggested that I try some monistat. I did and had so much pain I was crying. Called the poor doc on call and he doesn't think it's a YI. Apparently there's so much blood during delivery, (Ha! and that's for a normal delivery) that it tends to wash stuff out. And unless I was on a lot of antibiotics he doubted it was a YI except that all the complications and surgery after delivery did lead to me being on some antibiotics. I don't remember how much. It's making it hard to treat. I'm uncomfortable. And teary. And worried that it's going to turn into a UTI. Every time I've had a UTI I've been so uncomfortable I've been in bed for a week with symptoms so bad I thought I was going to die. In fact, I would say the pain I experienced during birth was less than my UTI pain. That is significant because I just gave birth a week ago. The memory of birth has not quite faded away yet. I cannot have another UTI. I just can't. I have a baby to take care of. I can't. I'm sitting here with an ice pack in my panties hoping and praying that this starts to subside soon. The doc suggested I up my pain meds and keep an eye on it. Translation: he has no idea what is going on either. I feel like crap.

Miles lost a lot of weight in the first couple of days. Birth weight was 8 lbs 6 oz. Monday's doctors appt revealed a weight of 7 lbs 6 oz. Time to supplement. We did after every feeding and Tuesday's appt showed a weight gain of 6.5 oz and a new weight of 7 lbs 12.5 oz. Today's weight check showed a weight of 7 lbs 13 oz. Sigh. We stopped supplementing on Wednesday because things were going so well in the hopes of not interefering with the breastfeeding. I question myself at every turn. I have never given so much thought to someone else's feeding, peeing, and pooping patterns. And they're not where I'd like them. He didn't eat well today at all. He's back to sleeping a lot. Falling asleep during feedings. Eating off of only one breast. Sigh. I'm frustrated. And worried. And I hate questioning myself. Especially on such little sleep. Tomorrow will be a better day, right?

I don't want to forget

I'm beyond exhausted. I can barely think straight. And my memory is bound to be the first thing to go. Today we had our first blow out diaper. I seriously doubt that this will excite me going forward as much as it did today but it feels like everything that happens is a "mommy moment". We went on our first walk tonight. We spent 45 minutes exploring our new neighborhood with a baby in a stroller and a dog on a leash. It was serious work not breaking down into tears right then and there. He's one week old today. And the memory of that wretched birthing business is already fading away. I am more in love than I ever thought possible. I love to hold and cuddle and smell him. I don't want to ever forget this. It's positively magical.

When I bother to post, the news is bound to be big

We have a son. He was born after June 5th, 2008, on his due date, at 9:30am. He weighed in at 8 lbs 6 oz and was 20.5 inches long. I miss being pregnant already. His name is Miles Ernest and we could not be more in love. He loves sleeping more than I do, which has proved problematic for feeding. We're both learning to breastfeed which is harder than we both planned on. We can all agree that we prefer the umbilical cord for feeding. However, he's awake and rooting so we're going to take advantage of this fine opportunity.